


Take Shelter

by BayLeaf23



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:51:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5818360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BayLeaf23/pseuds/BayLeaf23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buckle up and follow Ashlyn and Ali's tumultuous journey through South Africa in the apartheid-stricken 1950's. A tale of self-discovery, heart-wrenching injustice, unrequited love and immeasurable loss. Not for the faint hearted. </p>
<p>Title inspired by the 'Years & Years' single of the same name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> Contains sensitive subjects - appropriate warnings will be given in offending chapters.

You open your eyes and wince at the light creeping in from the half-drawn curtains. Your body aches as you manoeuvre onto your side, staring at the beautiful woman beside you. You sigh, running a hand through your long, blonde hair. You shouldn’t be here. Not with her. Not when her husband could come home at any moment.

You glance at the clock and realise it’s nearly midday. You suck in a deep breath, close your eyes, count to three, and exhale. “Al… Al, you’ve got to wake up, love.” She stirs, gently pressing a kiss to your shoulder, and snuggling closer to your body. You sigh again. “Baby, please.”

She opens one eye. Your favourite shade of cinnamon, staring up at you. “What’s the time?” she rasps out, propping herself up. You smile at her tousled hair, messily strewn across her face. There’s nothing you love more than waking up to this perfectly, imperfect woman.

“Eleven forty-three.” She groans, visibly displeased, and you press a kiss to her forehead before rising from the bed. “I’ll go make us some coffee, love.”

* * *

 

You enjoy your time with Ashlyn – it’s not that you don’t – but it’s a complicated arrangement. You need the physical release; a desperate need to feel desired and worth more than a housewife whose husband only cares about guns, politics money and women. But she needs more than you can give her.

You pretend not to notice when she whispers her love for you in the dead of night, or stares at you like no man ever has. You pretend not to see the love housed in her gentle, hazel orbs when she sends you over the edge time and time again. You turn a blind eye to the lingering touches and tender kisses – the strong arms wrapped around your waist when she stays the night.

Mostly, from this arrangement, you need passion and lust and sex – something Ashlyn is more than willing to give you. But lately, with Richard gone almost every weekend, you’ve come to need her company, her friendship. You’ve found yourself wondering what she’s doing when you’re sweeping the pantry, or buying the groceries. You’ve found yourself wondering who, if not you, she’s spending the night with.

But you’re not like her. You have a husband, a reputation to uphold, a desire to be what a grown woman _should_ be, you have little time for fantasies and fairy tales.

You rise from the bed, a sigh escaping your chapped lips, and make your way into the adjacent bathroom, stalling for time so you can delay the pseudo-domesticity that awaits you.


End file.
